


Settled

by glim



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Established Relationship, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-18
Updated: 2010-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe they wouldn't always feel so settled, but Merlin would always remember the way Arthur had looked at him that first night beneath the summer sky lit up with strung lights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Settled

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kinkme_merlin prompt _modern!Au, established relationship, schmoop, over-caring, over-protective Arthur._

Mobile and keys in hand, Merlin rattled down the stairs. His coat, scarf, and gloves were probably still on the sofa where he left them last night and his shoes… Hm. Shoes. He'd have to ask Arthur where his shoes were. No clue where those ended up after he kicked them off when he got home from work yesterday. Probably under the sofa. Or under Bella, who'd mewed her disapproval the whole time Merlin had spent packing last night and had stalked off downstairs when sitting on his bag hadn't stopped Merlin from shoving socks and tee shirts in there.

He checked the stairs once more for both shoes and cat, located neither, and dropped his keys and mobile on the step next to his overnight bag. The house he shared with Arthur had a lot of good qualities – close enough to the city centre and various bus stops for both of them to be able to get around without having to drive, big enough for the both of them and even big enough for guests, if they remembered to do something about the tip of books and computer equipment in the spare bedroom, and not in any dire need of repairs or renovations, or, at least, not ones they couldn't afford quite yet. Except for the heating. While the bedrooms and kitchen were all right, the front room never seemed comfortable enough in winter and the corridors were positively frigid this morning. They really needed to do something about the draft from the front door soon, at the very least.

"Arthur? Did your cat steal my shoes?" Rubbing his hands over his arms and shivering through his jumper, Merlin padded down the hall past the sitting room to the kitchen.

Where he found Arthur drinking tea, reading the paper, and still looking groggy with sleep. Half-six wasn't particularly early for either Merlin or Arthur to be up during the week, though they were both more accustomed to waking up at this time and curling around each other for fifteen or thirty more minutes before getting out of bed. The weak, winter sunlight was barely pushing its way through the cloud cover and Arthur had only turned on the light above the stove, leaving a dull, yellow glow of hazy light in the kitchen. This was probably Merlin's favorite room in the house. It would've been his second favorite, but they hadn't finished redecorating the bedroom yet, and the muted green and cream color scheme in the kitchen was much nicer than the odd blue upstairs. Besides, it was the kitchen that was always inexplicably warm; it was also where he and Arthur spent a quiet hour before work, eating and talking, and where Merlin would sit, at the solid wooden table, watching Arthur prepare dinner and rehashing both their days before they ate.

"Trainers?" Arthur took another sip of tea and cleared his throat, still hoarse from sleep, before looking up from his paper.

"No, shoes. Actual shoes. Um. The black ones?"

"Hm. Bella?"

The little grey cat mrewed from under the table, abandoned her place at Arthur's feet, and slunk out to wind around Merlin's ankles. She waited long enough for him to make himself toast and a cup of tea, and to add sugar and milk, and then walked him back to the table and settled herself, snug and heavy, in his lap as soon as Merlin sat down next to Arthur.

"Bell, did you kidnap my only decent pair of shoes?" A tiny, indignant kitten sound came from his lap and Merlin rubbed between Bella's ears until she purred for him. "I don't think she wants me to leave."

"Yes, well, she's a very smart cat."

"She's your cat. I think that explains everything."

"Mm… intelligence, beauty, charm."

"I think Bella comes by those qualities all on her own." Merlin reached over to smooth down Arthur's sticky-up bed hair and to stroke the soft tendrils behind his ears, laughing quietly when Arthur made his own rumbly, purring noise for Merlin. "Okay, you never do that for me outside the bedroom. You really don't want me to leave either, do you?"

Arthur shrugged and hid behind his tea. They hadn't really fought about the weekend and they weren't going to fight now, not when Merlin was going to be gone for three days and Arthur was going to spend most of that time at work.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"And I'd rather you came with me."

"Merlin. You know I can't. I need to push through the edits on both those books or my father will have a coronary."

"And you know I'll be fine. I'm going to Ealdor. For the weekend." Merlin slipped his hand down to rub Arthur's shoulder and ease the tension he could already see starting to build. "You make it sound like you're sending me to South America for the rest of the year."

Arthur, however, wasn't easily appeased. He spent at least another minute frowning that serious, concerned frown that he got whenever he didn't approve of Merlin's plans, and then another fussing with toast and butter. "First off, there isn't much left of this year. Second, it's warm in South America. Warmer than England in December, anyway," he pointed out before Merlin could offer an objection.

"Still: Ealdor; for the weekend. Not the depths of darkest Peru for a month."

"You've been ill. You'll probably come home with pneumonia and I'll have to spend weeks making sure you don't die."

"Arthur. I had a cold. Which, notice, past tense, yeah?"

"You still sound like you're not well." Arthur gave another little frown and handed a piece of toast to Merlin. "Your throat."

"Is fine. I feel fine. I promise. What's got into you lately?" Between the tea, toast, and Bella curled up in his lap, the sleepy warmth of the kitchen was doing a better job of lulling Merlin into wanting to stay home than Arthur's bout of over-protection.

"Nothing. I just don't want you gallivanting about like that when you're not well."

"You're very silly, you realize that, right?"

"Well. Perhaps." Arthur leaned in to brush his lips over Merlin's. "Mm. Toast crumbs."

"Also, rather mad." Not able to escape another kiss, Merlin put his tea down and angled closer to Arthur. His nose brushed over Arthur's, affectionate, and they kept kissing until Merlin pulled back to glance up at the clock. "Give me a lift to the train station?"

Arthur nodded, kissed Merlin once more, and kissed him again, more firmly this time, and rested his forehead against Merlin's. They sat for a few more minutes at the kitchen table, quiet and close, kissing a few more times, but mostly just breathing against each other's mouths or nuzzling softly.

"Miss you when you go away."

"I know, me too."

And that, despite Merlin only planning on staying three days and two nights in Ealdor, and despite it being a little scarily co-dependent of them, was enough reason for Merlin to allow Arthur to fuss at him a bit more. The fact that they'd both been working so much overtime and hadn't really been home much for the past few weeks wasn't helping matters. Arthur had been working at least one day most weekends and Merlin had been to conventions in both October and November. So, maybe they'd been missing each other enough lately that even the fussing wasn't any real hardship.

For the most part, it included having another cup of tea before leaving home and yet another once they got to the train station, having Arthur fix his scarf a few times over until he was satisfied that Merlin wouldn't be ill equipped to face the rain and wind, and having Arthur stroke his cheek and lean in to kiss him long and slow on the platform, in front of the morning commuter frenzy, before letting Merlin board his train.

"Call me, all right? When you get into Ealdor?"

"I will."

"Don't be an idiot and forget."

"I'll call. Go. Go on, make sure Uther doesn't have a heart attack."

Arthur smiled, lowered his eyes, and waited until Merlin got on the train before turning to walk off the platform.

With the hum of voices and mobile phones and shuffling footsteps left behind, with the press of the crowd behind him and cool, quiet, drowsiness of the early morning train in front of him, Merlin cast one more second-long glance over his shoulder to watch Arthur retreat.

*

They'd met at university.

And then they fell in love.

Between those two events, however, were about three unspectacular years of hardly ever encountering each other at various parties or get-togethers, regardless of the number of mutual friends between the two of them.

Merlin supposed if he could say that the first time he met Arthur, he had found the man to be either completely captivating or a complete arse, then their story would be more interesting. But, truthfully, Merlin can't remember the first time he met Arthur. He knew it was at a party that Gwen had invited him to when she'd first started seeing Lance their first year at Oxford and didn't want to go to on her own. There'd been beer, and dancing, and Merlin can recall having a decent time, but can't remember actually meeting or even seeing Arthur there.

Nearly ten years later, Arthur still claimed that he remembered the exact moment when he had met Merlin. Merlin considered this an example of Arthur being rather mad and rather good at fabricating memories. Considering what Arthur recalled of that night was Merlin flirting with him and Merlin wearing beer down the front of his tee shirt, Merlin was almost certain Arthur didn't remember that night, either.

Not that Merlin never did either of those things during his undergraduate career, but part of him liked to hope that he didn't spend that evening all those years ago covered in cheap alcohol trying to pull Arthur.

Arthur, who, for most their undergraduate career, had seemed so different that Merlin had hardly entertained ideas of talking to, much less dating, him.

At least, until there was another party, a graduation one this time. Somebody had strung up lights in the garden of the house that Arthur shared with Lance and some other friends, and it was a very humid night in July, and Merlin absolutely did not spill any sort of alcohol down the front of his shirt when Arthur came to talk to him. There wasn't any flirting, either, only easy conversation and Arthur offering to get him another lager, and then Arthur, his eyes bright and fingers warm, and Arthur pulling him close at the end of the evening.

He also supposed the rest of that story wasn't too spectacular either, since it was mostly made up of Merlin and Arthur, the two of them going out to lunch and going out to pubs, shagging in Arthur's tiny, stuffy bedroom, and fighting over where they'd live and if they'd stay together once they found steady jobs, Merlin getting work doing web design for a handful of small businesses and Arthur, predictably, going to work at OUP for his father, a stream of too small, too expensive flats, two terrifically bad automobiles and finally one really decent car, countless Thai take-away meals, three trips to hospital, one break up, one non-break-up, and at long last, one house, one cat (Bella), and Merlin and Arthur.

So, all right, maybe it was a boring story, but Merlin figured nobody else had ever lived it before the two of them had, and that made it more than worth an abbreviated retelling every now and then.

*

Sleepy from his early morning and the soothing monotony of the two and a half hour train ride, Merlin found himself jerking awake about ten minutes before the train arrived at Ealdor. He spent those ten minutes blinking himself awake and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. At least he hadn't drooled on the person sitting next to him, because, really, that was the sort of intimacy that didn't need to happen on public transportation. Ever.

Merlin scrubbed at his face again and finished up the last of the tea Arthur had bought for him back at Oxford. Cold and about three times worse than the tea they made at home, but drinkable, and Merlin imagined the rest of the caffeine would at least get him off the train and alert enough until he could buy a decent cup of tea or coffee somewhere.

"Did you fall asleep on the train?" Arthur asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

"No. Of course not." There was no crowd at Ealdor's tiny train station to press through and Merlin easily made his way out to the chilly December morning.

"You did too. I can tell. You sound all muzzy."

"What? Okay. Now you're making me sound like the cat."

"I think that's a compliment. For you, anyway. How was the train ride?"

Merlin hesitated, readjusting his bag on his shoulder, and pulled his gloves out of his coat pockets. "Uneventful?"

"Because you were asleep?"

"… because I was asleep."

Arthur's deep, quiet laugh sounded across the line and Merlin huffed with indignation.

"How's work?"

"Fabulous. Father and Morgana are having a row over… well. I'm not altogether certain. I suspect she's winning, though."

"I think they enjoy it. I think –"

"I know exactly what you think and it's still far too early in the day to hear about your theories of unresolved sexual tension."

Merlin huffed again, this time with amusement. "You best get back to the crisis of the day. I'll ring you tonight, okay?"

"Right. Tell your mum and uncle I said hello. And, Merlin?"

"Yeah?"

"Just… take care of yourself, all right?"

"I will. You, too." Merlin smiled down at his phone before flicking it off and basked a little in the warmth of affection before ducking into a café and procuring another dose of much-needed caffeine.

*

Ealdor in December was a grey little place, clouds and rain-muted holiday decorations in familiar shop-front windows. Ignoring Arthur's warnings about pneumonia (Arthur, Merlin figured, worried for the sake of worrying sometimes), Merlin walked from the train station down town to his uncle's apothecary.

Gaius spent about ten minutes watching Merlin update software for the shop's computer system before shaking his head and leaving Merlin on his own to work. He updated the shop's computers on Friday, then the website Saturday, and gave Gaius a hand with whatever else needed to get done at the shop.

"Which is a little surreal," he explained to Arthur on the phone Saturday night, "I guess it always is, coming back home like this. I worked at the shop for so many years, sometimes I feel like I should still be there."

"Maybe we'll retire to Ealdor when we're both very old and bored. Or boring."

"Ealdor isn't boring."

"Mm. Just quiet, yes, and with limited, yet enthralling and vaguely medieval entertainment options. Aren't there sheep in the vicinity?"

"You say that like we live in the sprawling metropolis. Are you still at work?"

"What? Oh, no. I left around four this afternoon and brought work home with me. Reams of paperwork before the meeting tomorrow."

"On a Sunday?"

"You know Father. I think he wants all of editing from the academic division there tomorrow."

"Still no heart attack?"

"Ah, no. I think Morgana's closer at this point. Bella says hello and wants to know why you deserted her."

"She's probably peeved at you for bringing home all that paperwork and not spending every waking moment paying attention to her."

"Well, you'll be ignored, too, when you come home after having missed your _Eastenders_ viewing. You know she loves watching that with you."

Stretched out on the bed in his old room at his mum's house, Merlin listened to Arthur go on about work at the university press and talk about how he still hasn't figured out how to get the heat to work properly in the front room. He even put up with Arthur's fussing, if only to give himself justification for reminding Arthur to not stay up all night working and to not sleep on the sofa with his paperwork, but upstairs in bed. His mum had the telly on downstairs and was talking to Gaius over tea and biscuits, and once he got off the phone, Merlin would go and sit with them for a couple hours.

It was nice being back in Ealdor. It was also nice hearing Arthur's voice as he talked about work, or their cat, or the vast amount of paper they had to recycle; it was even nice to hear the faint traces of worry (unfounded, since Merlin ate, slept, and dressed weather-appropriately enough in his mum's home and was not in danger of getting flattened by a lorry due to not paying attention to where he was going any more here than in Oxford) and loneliness (more founded, given that weekends truly were the only days they spent most of their time together, and that Arthur had a hidden needy streak).

It was nice to realize how both places, both his mum's and the one he shared with Arthur, had the familiarity of home, of personal history and the memory of everyday life.

"Do you think you'll be done in time to pick me up at the train station?"

"God, I hope so. If not, I'll drive over anyway, and you could always come back to my office with me."

"Thanks. No, that's fine," Merlin added before Arthur could try and reformulate his plan. "I'll see you tomorrow."

*

There was, thankfully, no need for plan reformulation come Sunday afternoon. Arthur was wearing the slightly frazzled look, along with the dark red jumper and black trousers, that told Merlin he'd come right from the office to the train station.

"Hey." Merlin leaned across the seats in the car to nuzzle a kiss against Arthur's cheek.

"Hey, you. Good weekend?" Eyes closed for a second, Arthur moved into the kiss, then turned to bring their mouths together.

"Hm. Good. Glad it's not over yet."

"Home?"

Merlin nodded, not able to keep the smile off his face when Arthur kissed him again, even after Merlin turned away, sliding his mouth to press warm and firm to Merlin's jaw, his ear, the side of neck above his scarf, and his shoulder, through the layers of his coat and jumper and tee shirt.

The expression on his face both a little tired and a little relieved, Arthur returned the smile. He turned the heat up in the car, even though the drive home wasn't far, and carried Merlin's bag and laptop into the house. Merlin gave a little sound of protest, but let Arthur help him out of his coat, and gave no protest when Arthur tugged him in close by the scarf to kiss him in one smooth, then one deep, movement. He left Merlin to take off his own coat and to try and move both of them out of the incurably chilly hallway.

"Bell? Bella…" Merlin knelt down to coax Bella down the staircase where she stood, examining him, as he walked in the front door. Eventually, she came down, rested her one white paw on Merlin's foot after he took off his shoes, and let him gather her up into his arms. "See? She forgives me."

"That's because you give her treats every morning." Arthur's hand rested at the small of Merlin's back, rubbing lightly as they walked to the kitchen. "We're having leftovers for dinner."

"Lasagna?"

"And salad. And some soup."

"Eclectic."

"That's generous," Arthur replied.

Not that it mattered, because it was easier to heat up the few things Arthur had cooked over the weekend than to spend time deciding and preparing anything else. They had the lasagna, salad, and soup with a bottle of wine that they ended up finishing in the sitting room, curled up on the sofa and watching some mindless film on the television. Arthur started rubbing Merlin's neck and shoulders during the film, and that they decided to finish upstairs.

Arthur's hands moved over his shoulders and Merlin tipped his head back to catch Arthur's mouth against his own. Arthur rested one hand on Merlin's stomach, his chest close enough to Merlin's back that he could feel the warmth of their bodies mingling, yet not so close that Merlin could feel the touch of skin against skin.

It hadn't always been this easy between them; there'd been so much uncertainty and tension those first few years, and there had been weekends when Merlin went away and didn't come back until well into the next week. There'd been weekends where he and Arthur didn't talk, or where Arthur and his father fought and Arthur wouldn't talk about it.

Maybe it wouldn't always be this easy in the years to come, but tonight, tonight everything was easy, slow and deliberate, between the two of them. Maybe they wouldn't always feel so settled, but Merlin would always remember the way Arthur had looked at him that first night beneath the summer sky lit up with strung lights.

He would remember, like he remembered it tonight, with Arthur's hands moving over his body; his mouth at Arthur's shoulder mumbling that he'd only been gone three days and two nights, and mumbling that it was all right, that he wanted to come home and be reminded how Arthur always took care of him; his hands moving over Arthur's body, familiar and dear; their bodies pressing around and inside and against each other, flushed and aroused, needy and yearning, and yearning toward each other.

He would remember and would know that first moment had been spectacular.


End file.
